


Fool's Gold (emphasis on fool)

by Hihoneyimdead



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hihoneyimdead/pseuds/Hihoneyimdead
Summary: Miya Atsumu is the most annoying piece of shit prince Sakusa has ever had to deal with. He should just push him off a cliff and get it over with.Except.Except.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	Fool's Gold (emphasis on fool)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts from @sktsfluffweek on twitter
> 
> Day 2- Fantasy au

Once upon a time in a land across the ocean and a hop, skip, and a jump towards the stars, there was a chicken-stealing dragon.

And then the dragon stole a princess.

Which is all fine and dandy. Dragons steal princesses, and knights rescue them.

Except.

_Except._

“You’re not a princess.”

The man laughs, raucous and completely despicable, even going so far as to bend over and slap his knee.

Kiyoomi wants to stab him, but abstains. It’s a new sword. It deserves better.

“And you’re not a knight!” the man wheezes. “Your point is?”

Kiyoomi mentally weighs his choices. Kill this man, kill the dragon, and leave, claiming the princess was eaten. He might lose a hand for not returning the princess, but it’s an otherwise solid idea. Or he could kill the dragon and bring the man to the king and claim confusion, oh, your majesty, his apologies, he is but a humble fool. Bad idea, and Kiyoomi is no fool. Or he could simply leave now and go back to his room in the palace and pretend none of this ever happened.

He sheathes his sword, turns on his heel, and strides out of the cave without a second thought.

The dragon watches him as he goes, cat-like eyes narrowed and smoke slowly rising from its nostrils. He simply nods at it. It blinks, almost confused, before nodding itself.

Kiyoomi nearly makes it halfway down the mountain before something barrels into him from behind, wrapping its arms around his middle and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Don’t leave me! It’s so- _shit!”_

The man grunts as Kiyoomi spins around and shoves him against a dead tree, sword to his neck. He’s almost pretty, Kiyoomi idly thinks. Pity he’s an annoying piece of shit.

He’s changed clothes, Kiyoomi notices, what were nice-looking clothes swapped for rough linens and a dark, maroon cloak hung loosely around his (broad) shoulders. He also has a bow and quiver on his back, though the quiver is empty and the bow looks over a century old. Did he steal them from the dragon? An idiotic, annoying piece of shit, then.

“What are you doing?” Kiyoomi asks, already dreading the answer.

The man blinks up at him innocently. “I’m being rescued, of course.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope you brought a horse, ‘cause there is no way in the hells that I’m walking home.”

“Excuse me?”

“You sure do repeat yourself a lot, don’tcha? That’s fine, I won’t think any less of you.”

Kiyoomi bites back a third _“Excuse me?”_

Instead, he says, “Go away,” and backs away, sheathing his sword again and starting back down the mountain.

“What? Wait! No! Hold on!” the man protests, scrambling down after him. Kiyoomi can hear the pebbles kicked up. It’s a good thing he’s wearing a mask; this much dust could kill a man. “Don’t leave me!”

“I will stab you.”

“Nah. I’m a prince. You can’t stab me.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. If only.

“I’ve stabbed princes before,” he says. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

The man gasps, probably, hopefully afraid, terrified, ready to run back to his cave and leave Kiyoomi alone.

Kiyoomi sighs in relief at the brief moment of silence.

Then:

“That’s _adorable_. You’re adorable.”

Kiyoomi’s eyebrow twitches. “‘Adorable’?”

“Cute. Precious. Delicate. Sweet. Cute.”

“You already said cute.”

“Well, it’s true! You’re damn adorable, all ‘I have stabbed princes before’-”

“Was that supposed to be my voice?”

Kiyoomi feels a migraine building. What if he just pushed him off of the mountain. That would be acceptable, right?

“Anyway, if you stab me, my brother’s gonna come down here and fry you to a crisp, and it’d be a shame. The Captain could use better knights.”

“Your brother?” Kiyoomi tiredly asks.

“Yup!” The man chirps. Kiyoomi turns halfway around and is met with the most dazzling smile he has ever seen. It glitters. This man glitters, even covered in dust. Like gold, almost, or pyrite, more like. “You’ve already met him.”

Already…? No.

Kiyoomi’s eyes widen just as the dragon roars from its cave at the peak, and the man’s golden eyes glimmer. Absolutely not.

“Ah, so our reputation proceeds us,” smirks Miya Atsumu, the Dragon Prince (or one of them, anyway.)

Kiyoomi scowls. “It’s ‘precedes’, moron.” He turns around, adjusts his mask and cloak, and looks down the mountain path into the forest below. “Now come on, already. I want to be in the forest by nightfall.”

Kiyoomi has only heard legends of the twin Dragon Princes of Inarizaki, a kingdom known for its frankly outrageous fox population. Supposedly they were cursed at birth, though Kiyoomi hardly believes in magic on the best of days. Even in Kiyoomi’s own kingdom, rumors spread. The king was an idiot and insulted a witch. The queen refused a witch a night’s lodgings during a storm. They both forgot to invite a witch to a banquet. Witch, witch, witch, whatever.

Personally, Kiyoomi believes that the babies were too damn annoying for the witch to stand. Dragons, while destructive and evil and whatnot, at least _don’t speak._

“You’d like ‘samu, I think. He’s smug and gross and annoying, just like you are.”

“I’m the annoying one?” Kiyoomi asks.

“Yeah. All you want to do is talk about yourself.”

The prince stretches his arms above his head and looks up at the sky between the overhanging branches above them. The sun will be setting soon, and, luckily, they’re nearly where Kiyoomi wanted to be by nightfall. It’s a four day journey back to Itachiyama, and Inarizaki is another six days’ travel from there. But Kiyoomi would rather avoid his own kingdom, so it’s going to be a full two weeks until he sees civilization again. It’s something he isn’t used to, but normally he has at least some kind of roof over his head during the night.

Miya, of course, knows none of this, and seems perfectly fine with spending the night under the stars. But he’s also spent twenty-odd years living in a cave with his dragon brother, so this is probably normal for him.

“And you won’t even talk about anything interesting!” Miya continues. Kiyoomi pretends not to be looking at his arms as he continues to stretch. “It’s all, ‘Shut up, I’m thinking,’ or, ‘Put that back in the bag, I will stab you,’ or, ‘I’m planning dinner. It’s bread. Stop frowning, you look like an idjit.’”

Kiyoomi mouths _‘idjit’_ to himself with a slight frown.

“Like what’s your favorite color?” Miya asks.

“If I answer, you have to be quiet for the next half an hour,” Kiyoomi replies. It’s a fair trade. He and his cousin used to play this game over long carriage rides back when both of them were younger and harder to occupy than they are now.

Miya groans. “C’mon, really? I just want to have a conversation!”

“And I want you to shut up. It seems fair to me.”

“Literally how.”

“You get what you want, I get what I want. You can even ask more questions later if we keep the same arrangement.”

Miya bites his lip, thinking, before nodding. “Deal. So. Favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“What?”

“You agreed to be quiet.”

“Okay, but fucking _yellow?”_ Miya almost looks pained. “I thought you would have better taste than that! Like blue. Or red. Even black.”

“Black isn’t a color.”

“Uh, yeah, it is. My hair is black.”

“Your hair is a mess.”

“So’s yours, but I’m not out here telling you that it isn’t real.” A pause, and Kiyoomi waits for a moment, patient(ish). Then, “ _Your_ hair is black!”

“It’s actually a very dark shade of brown.”

“It’s fucking black and you know it.”

Kiyoomi can’t help the slight smile on his face. Thank the gods for the mask. Something tells him that Miya would be even more irritating if he saw it (if that’s even possible.)

“Aren’t you supposed to be quiet now?” he asks.

“...you were being serious?”

“Miya. I am _always_ serious.”

Miya narrows his eyes at him for a moment, dead silent, before bursting out into laughter. “You sure are! Right. I’ll come up with something better to ask in half an hour.”

Indeed, half an hour later, he asks, “What’s your name?”

Kiyoomi is honestly surprised that it took him almost seven hours to ask him this. But it was also seven hours that he had to come up with an answer. Foreign Dragon Prince or not, he would still be a little curious.

“Jeffrey,” he says, voice purposefully flat. The name, foreign, is heavy on his tongue. “It means ‘east of the rising sun’.”

“What the fuck is a Jeffrey?” Miya asks, smile evident in his voice even if Kiyoomi can’t see it in the growing dark. Night is falling, and they really need to settle down soon. “Look, if you’re some criminal dude, I couldn’t give less than a shit. Me and ‘samu used to pretend to be bandits and rob the staff back home.”

“So you’ve always been this much of a brat?”

“Have you always been this much of a prick?”

“Dunno, have _you_ always been this much of a prick?”

“Nah, I’m fuckin’ golden. What I wanna know is if you’ve always been this stuck-up.”

“All of my life. Have you always been this irritating?”

“My mom always tells me that it’s just being quirky. Has your mom ever asked why you’re this boring?”

“She always said that I was intelligent. Have you always been this much of an idiot?”

He’s smiling. He should stop smiling. It’s starting to hurt (thank the gods for the mask thank the gods for the mask.) He hasn’t smiled for longer than a few seconds in years. Maybe the prince is under a curse after all, and maybe it’s wearing off on Kiyoomi. Gods forbid.

By the time they settle down for the night next to an oak tree the size of Kiyoomi’s bedroom, Miya is nearly dead on his feet, and Kiyoomi’s face aches with a pain he doesn’t recognize, as does his heart. Eight hours on the road. Disgusting. He’s getting weak, off his rhythm.

He wrinkles his nose as he nudges a rotting log away from their campsite with his boot, nearly jumping out of his skin as a centipede comes scurrying out and into the forest beyond. It was raining the night before, and the moisture hasn’t quite left the ground. There is mud on the bottom of his bag when he picks it up to search for his bedroll.

“Not used to sleeping in the wild?” Miya asks. He’s been set up for the past ten minutes, lounging on his own bedroll and chewing on a hard piece of bread. His eyes glow in the dark, the same color as the campfire. “I thought you were some kind of harrowed adventurer.”

“Not quite,” Kiyoomi mutters. He grits his teeth and drops his bag to the ground and begins rolling his bedroll out on a relatively less muddy part of the ground close to the fire. “This is my first journey out, actually.”

Miya hums and swallows a chunk of bread. “Right. See, I knew you weren’t knight material from the beginning. You’re soft.”

Kiyoomi wrinkles his brow and turns to look at Miya confusedly. “‘Soft’?”

“Yeah. Your boots are too nice to be a knight’s, and I could smell the gold in your bag from a mile away. ‘Samu thought you were some rich prince kid, but I’m convinced you’re just a petty crook who stumbled into the wrong cave.”

“I did stumble into the wrong cave.”

“Yeah, sorry, the princess is the next mountain over. Her dragon’s not as nice as ‘samu, though, so I guess you got lucky. I’m sure your folks would miss you if you got eaten up.”

“Yes,” Kiyoomi says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sure they would.”

It’s quiet. Kiyoomi sits down on his bedroll and winkles his nose as the moisture creeps in. Miya continues munching on his bread.

“I’ve never spent the night away from my brother before,” Miya eventually says. His voice is low, gravelly. Tired. “He’s probably in his bed right now worried sick about me. I’ll bet we’ll see him when we get to the palace, though. You’d better get me there in one piece.”

“He has a bed?” Kiyoomi asks. “He’s a dragon.”

“Oh! Yeah, see, he’s a dragon during the day, and I’m a dragon at night. When the moon rises. I give it another twenty minutes.”

“Ah.”

“Cool, ain’t it?”

“Not really. It sounds impractical. How do you sleep at home?”

“On the ground, mostly. This mud’s practically luxury compared to some of the shit I’ve slept on, including literal shit.”

Kiyoomi gags and covers his mouth through the mask. Miya snorts and looks up at the stars.

“I’m kinda like a fire, though. Nice and warm and cozy. So if you get cold or anythin’, come and snuggle up real close. Promise I won’t bite.”

Kiyoomi shivers. “I would rather die, thank you.”

“Fair enough! I won’t judge if you change your mind. I mean, I will, but I’ll probably only brag a little in the morning.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and flops onto his back. A drop of water falls from a leaf and lands between his eyes, a shock of cold. Two weeks, huh?

When Kiyoomi wakes up, it’s covered with Miya’s cloak on top of his own and with an arm slung over his middle. Miya was right. He is warm.

Kiyoomi has been to Inarizaki three times in his life, and always from inside of a carriage and away from the capital city itself. He much prefers the carriage. The streets smell too much like cinnamon for his tastes, and the people keep stopping Miya and saying hello, or asking for an autograph, or asking for his brother’s autograph (Miya nearly punches the poor kid who asked, and Kiyoomi almost let him.) There are guards everywhere, dressed in silvery armor, who nod and wave at the two of them as they pass by.

Kiyoomi keeps his hood up and his cloak drawn tightly around him. Miya still hasn’t seen the lower half of his face, and Kiyoomi is planning on keeping it that way. He’s staying long enough to drop the prince off, then leaving. Maybe he’ll go to Mujinzaka next. It’s not close, but not too far, either. He could be home for the holidays if he so chose.

Miya, thankfully, isn’t asking questions. Whether it’s their agreed-upon half hour of silence or a sudden and uncharacteristic bout of courtesy doesn’t matter.

“Thank you,” Miya says. The palace is close, and Kiyoomi should leave now. But he’s still walking, and still walking, and he bumps Miya’s shoulder once with his own as they approach the servants’ entrance. “You didn’t need to actually bring me home. Me and ‘samu were gonna fly back in a month or two, anyway.”

“I couldn’t leave a damsel in distress.” Kiyoomi shrugs. He smirks at the way Miya’s face grows red. Brat. Bitch. “Besides… I enjoyed it.”

He mutters the last part of his statement, and Miya doesn’t quite catch it over the noise of the city, because he leans closer and asks, “What didja say? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Nothing.”

Kiyoomi’s smirk falls at Miya’s grows. “Nah, I heard something. Something like, ‘I enjoyed your company, oh glorious Miya-sama, please gift me a favor for doing you such a service.’”

“Was that supposed to be my voice?”

“Here you go repeatin’ shit again. Gods, are you a fucking parrot?”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “If you want to give me a favor, work on your impression of me. I sound like a bear.”

“What does a bear sound like?”

“Apparently like me.”

Miya chuckles and shakes his head.

He stops walking and stares at the servants’ entrance door. Kiyoomi stops next to him. Their fingers brush, and Kiyoomi fights the urge to take his hand. A handshake goodbye, definitely. That’s the polite thing to do in this kingdom, yes? _Yes?_

Miya clears his throat. “Well, uh. This is me.”

“Sure is.”

“D’ya want to come in? You can meet ‘samu tonight when the sun goes down, and I’m sure mom and dad would love to meet my dashing prince charming.”

Kiyoomi coughs on his spit, and Miya slaps his back unnecessarily hard. Kiyoomi wheezes and nearly doubles over. When he stands back upright, his hood falls from his head, and he pretends that Miya isn’t looking into his eyes.

“How long have you known?” he weakly asks.

Miya shrugs, suddenly looking down at the ground. “Told you day one. You’re too soft to be some wandering hero. Plus you’ve got the Sakusa family crest on your sword.”

Kiyoomi looks down at his sword. He thought he sanded the crest off before he left.

“You’re Sakusa Kiyoomi, right?” Miya asks. “I’ve been to one of your cousin’s fancy balls. Well, ‘samu went, but we’ve got this twin sense thing going-”

“Twin sense isn’t a real thing.”

“Says the nonbeliever. Look, point is I kinda knew from the beginning, but I didn’t say anything because you’re obviously not, like… into that anymore. I’m thinking we go in, spend the night, get supplies, and head off in the morning or in a day or two before any of the lesser nobles see you and send word to your folks.”

Kiyoomi blinks and snaps his gaze up to Miya, who’s blushing. _Blushing_. Cute. No, not cute. But cute.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“I don’t really like palace life anyway,” Miya continues, scratching the back of his head a bit awkwardly. “It’s kinda cramped in there at night.”

“Excuse me?”

“And I haven’t really been past the mountain in a while, so I was thinking we double back and see what’s beyond, maybe save that princess.”

Kiyoomi bites back a third _“Excuse me?”_

“You’re an asshole. And an idiot. And a brat,” he instead says.

“Hey!” Miya protests, half-heartedly glaring. “I represent that statement!”

“So why do I want to say yes?” Kiyoomi continues. He closes his eyes, sighs out through his nose, and slumps a little. “Gods, I hope your brother is more tolerable than you are.”

“Nah, he’s worse than me. He even gets hangry, the fuckin’ asshole.”

“Somehow that sounds preferable to anything you’ve shown me over the past two weeks.”

Miya lets out a brief protest that is quickly cut short as Kiyoomi takes his hand properly (ignoring the weeks of built-up sweat and grime and dirt and dust and-) and tugs down his mask, offering him a small smile. Miya stares, looking more like a fish than a dragon; Kiyoomi feels more than a bit vindictive.

“You look like a fucking fish,” he states, quick and simple, and he knocks on the door and waits as Miya stammers out an insult that will never land.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hihoneyimdying?s=21) if you want! 
> 
> I know this is a late post, but whatever, time is relative and can suck my dick. 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, I always write these oneshots in like one sitting and without editing or proofreading or anything. Sorry!


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